write a novel

Of course I’d still like to do this, but ECT has really messed up my memory, particularly things like vocabulary, some cognitive abilities, and teaching different writing styles. Know that feeling of having a word on the tip of your tongue, but you can’t think what it is? Well, that’s how it is for me all the fucking time. And if I can’t fucking teach writing, let alone remember words, how the hell am I supposed to write? I don’t mean blogging, but like, specific writing genres like personal essays, research writing, poetry, and so on.

At least the ECT procedure is much more humane and refined in this century, and unlike Hemingway, I had ECT voluntarily (well, there wasn’t much left for me try in terms of meds). In fact, I’ve had more treatments than he did, but he ended up committing suicide because of them. I know I’ve quoted this on my blog before, but I feel that it needs to be mentioned again.

According to the Citizens Commission on Human Rights:

Nobel Prize-winning author Ernest Hemingway was tricked into admitting himself to a psychiatric institution. He was given more than 20 electroshock treatments. The result devastated him. Shortly afterwards, he told a friend, “Well, what is the sense of ruining my head and erasing my memory, which is my capital, and putting me out of business? It was a brilliant cure but we lost the patient….” In July 1961, days after being released from the Mayo psychiatric clinic, Hemingway committed suicide.

By the way, according to Neil A. Grauer, in the article “Remembering Papa” published in the July/August 1999 issue of Cigar Aficionado, Hemingway supposedly bought the gun he used to off himself from Abercrombie. I shop there sometimes. How fucked up is that? At least they don’t sell weapons anymore.

i should really stop giving these entries titles like “Day X,” especially because Dawn suggested to “Treat the deadline as an arbitrary one.” and she’s right.

it was a great reminder of what my personal goal is with this NaNoWriMo/novel writing undertaking. though i may not end up being a winner by NaNoWrimo’s standards, it doesn’t matter because i’ve already won. the whole point was for me to get back into writing, and i’ve done that. my next challenge is to find a way to incorporate it into my daily routine, to make time to write a little bit each day.

in undergrad i became interested in the writing process while taking a course called Writing Center Theory and Pedagogy. when i was teaching, this was something that continued to interest me, so it’s time i examined my own writing process. maybe it’ll help me get to the root of why i’ve had such a tough time of it since defending my thesis; why the words don’t come out as easily as they used to and is more like squeezing water from a stone.

anyway, i’m still working on character sketches. i’m a sucker for backstories. right now i’m figuring out how Marie got her cat Marmaduke. maybe it sounds silly, but i think it’s important.

as of today, i declare every month bloggo chicago Novel Writing Month!

i figured out why i’m stuck. here i’ve been working on what may or may not be the opening scene, when i hardly even know Marie yet, let alone the other characters. i mean, i don’t even know what sort of relationship she has with her parents, how many people are in her immediate family, stuff like that.

so i’m going to set the party scene aside for now and continue working on my character traits and setting sketches: Marie’s apartment, workplace, etc.

four words: Star Wars Battlefront II. enough said.

i’ve been working on setting sketches-the main character’s apartment, for example. i also created a timeline as to the events that led to where the novel begins. however, as for actually getting words onto paper…i can’t seem to do it. i can’t make myself sit down-no, that’s wrong. i can sit down, but all i can do is stare at a blank screen.

a few months ago, my therapist said that my inability to write/get the words out is bound up with my anxiety. and let me tell you, my anxiety right now is high. how fucked up is this: i’m actually anxious about whether or not i’m slipping back into a depression. if that isn’t anxiety, i don’t know what is.

no progress. well, at least not any written progress. in my mind, there’s definitely tons going on, i just haven’t had a chance to sit down and do anything today.

today didn’t start out so well, but i won’t go into that too much. i’ll just say that i had a mild anxiety attack, but that had nothing to do with this particular undertaking, just life in general.

anyway, i wrote a few character sketches, and a couple of scenes. one completely sucks. the other, i’m at least happy enough with that i posted it as an excerpt on the site.

i don’t normally post my work because if i ever get around to submitting any of it again, the lit journals will consider it previously published if it’s on my blog. however, since this isn’t poetry, and since i already posted it on NaNoWriMo and it’s only an excerpt, i’ll go ahead and post it (on bloggo chicago, not here.

since i’m doing NaNoWriMo, which starts tomorrow, or more officially in about 45 minutes CST, i figured i’d add this to the list of Things I’m Doing.

i don’t know how much time i’ll have to blog, or it could be that i continue to blog but simply blog about procrastinating.